


Until It Fades Away

by jetpacks



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Baking, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, pet/fish death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 17:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetpacks/pseuds/jetpacks
Summary: Chloe's fish dies. Brooke, of course, is there to help.





	Until It Fades Away

**Author's Note:**

> oh yeah so this was like supposed to be a summer gift exchange but then i forgot i wrote it and requested a pinch hitter, anyway here's this. yeehaw

It’s a cloudy April afternoon when Chloe’s pet fish, Ke$ha, dies. Her father prefers to say ‘passed away’, but she’s not going to mince words: that fish is dead and gone.

As she stands over the toilet bowl, watching the little black body swirl around and slip down into the plumbing, Chloe heaves a sigh and wipes a tear away from her eye. Why’s she so sad about this? She barely paid any attention to Ke$ha (the fish, not the singer; she loves Ke$ha), because… well… it was a fish. Still, it was a fish that belonged to her, and the loss of a possession is _ not _one of Chloe’s favorite things. Also, she’s hormonal.

With a sigh, Chloe shifts so she’s leaning against the vanity and pulls out her phone, opening it to Instagram. She snaps a blurry picture of her ceiling, making sure to add text saying ‘guess whose fish just died (:’ before adding it to her story. Hopefully people would get the sarcasm and not further accuse her of being a heartless bitch. She can sorta be one, that’s true, but she wouldn’t celebrate the death of an animal unless it, like, mauled her best friend or something.

Speaking of her best friend- within ten minutes, Brooke’s replied to her story.

_ chlo oh my god that’s so awful!! _

_ i’m so sorry ): _

The corner of Chloe’s mouth curves up into a half-smile, and she leans back against her headboard (she hasn’t been staring at the toilet bowl for ten minutes, obviously; who does that?). She can always count on Brooke to be sweet to her, even when she doesn’t deserve it. Not now, of course; she totally deserves it now. But sometimes…

Well, she doesn’t want to think about that right now.

_ thanks, brooke _

_ she’s in a better place now :fist::pensive: _

_ ): still! _

_ you’ve had ke$ha for like a million years _

_ more like three but fair _

_ oh yeah, 14th birthday, right? _

_ anyway _

_ if you need anyone there with you i know where you live _

_ so! _

_ well we’ve been friends since the sixth grade _

_ i sure hope you do _

_ well yeah _

_ anyway do you want me to…? _ _   
_ _ like, come over? _

Chloe considers it. It’s not like she’s going to do something… unmentionable if she doesn’t have company- it’s just a fish, after all- but hey, a hangout is a hangout. She likes spending time with Brooke either way.

_ sure, i’m down _

_ you can come over whenever _

_ cool! i’ll hop in the car then _

_ cya :blue_heart::yellow_heart: _

Chloe sets her phone down and presses the heels of her palms to her closed eyes. Why are there still tears? She groans, opening her eyes again, and frowns up at the ceiling. Her eyes flicker across the white bumps, and she makes a half-hearted attempt to count them all, but she only gets five bumps in before she decides that it’s a stupid idea. Instead, to pass the time until Brooke arrives, she picks up her phone again and watches slime videos on double time, because all slime YouTubers have insufferably slow voices.

The doorbell rings three videos in, and Chloe swipes away the YouTube app from her screen before stretching and getting out of bed. Her feet thump-thump-thump- more like tap-tap-tap; she’s _ delicate- _on the carpeted stairs, and her cat, Marie, trails after her, no doubt overjoyed at the fact that there’s no longer a tempting morsel of fish making her into a modern day feline Tantalus. Chloe scoops her up in her arms, then unlocks the door and lets it swing open. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Brooke says, with that bright smile of hers that has Chloe’s heart beating sideways. Chloe steps to the side, and Brooke enters the Valentine abode, though not before wiping her feet on the welcome mat. “How’re you holding up?”

Chloe shrugs, though she knows her eyes are red. “I’m fine. Seriously, it’s no big deal.” It’s just a fish, she reminds herself. It’s just… a fish.

(But it’s not really about the fish.)

Brooke’s smile softens, and she reaches out to place a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, rubbing it with smooth strokes of her thumb. “That’s good to hear. At least it wasn’t Marie,” she says, and blows a kiss to the purring cat.

Chloe shivers at the thought. She’s a bit more attached to Marie than she was to Ke$ha (again, the fish, not the singer- though, actually, this time, it works for either). “Ugh, don’t even make me think about it.”

“Sorry, Chloe,” Brooke says, and her face falls for a second before she lightens up again and continues, “So, what d’you wanna do? You wanna vent, be distracted, ask for advice…?”

Chloe snorts a huff of laughter. “Advice on what? How to throw a funeral for my fish?”

With a shrug, Brooke says, “I mean, I guess so. I’ve done it before. It was for a hamster, but…”

“Huh.” Chloe considers it for a second. “No, I think I’ll pass. I mean, I know I’m dramatic, but that’s a little too much, even for me.”

“Okay, then,” Brooke says. Instead of dawdling near the door, she scoots past Chloe and walks down the short hall to the kitchen; letting Marie jump out of her arms, Chloe follows. The irony isn’t lost on her.

“Your parents are home, right?” Brooke asks, and Chloe nods. “Cool. We can bake something, then, if you want.”

“Brooke, you know those rules are from when we were, like, thirteen, right?” The edge of Chloe’s mouth ticks up into a wry smile. “We’re almost adults; I’m pretty sure we can use the oven by ourselves.”

“Wellll, sixteen and a half isn’t really ‘almost adults’,” Brooke says, complete with finger quotes. “Do you have any brownie mix?”

“Yup,” Chloe says, popping the p, and strides over to the cabinet to grab it. Scanning the instructions on the back, she instructs: “We need grease, water, oil, and eggs.”

Obedient as always, Brooke retrieves the wet ingredients, setting each of them on the counter nearest Chloe. “Got it,” she says, and brushes her hands together as if wiping off dust.

Chloe strides across the kitchen grabs a bowl and a pan from another cabinet, then pours the brownie mix into the bowl, holding back a sneeze as the powder puffs back up at her. She gestures with her head for Brooke to come over, and, like a puppy, she again obeys. A niggling thought at the back of her brain tells Chloe that _ this isn’t healthy, this isn’t good, _but she pushes it away. She has bigger things to worry about.

Without further ado, Brooke cracks the eggs into the bowl and pours in the liquid ingredients, then turns to Chloe with a smile. “You feeling any better?” she asks.

“Hm?” The events of earlier today come back to Chloe in a rush, then, and she pauses. “Oh. Yeah, I’m doing fine.” But something keeps bothering her, crawling around in her chest like a dying animal. Worrying her lip, she elects to ignore it. If she pushes it away for long enough, then it won’t be a problem anymore.

“Okay, good,” Brooke says. She looks down, then, and tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “So, um.”

“‘Um’?” Chloe asks, and narrows her eyes, scanning Brooke up and down like she had the box. “What’s up?”

“I… uh. Nothing, I guess,” Brooke says, and gives a forced laugh. “Sorry. I forgot what I was gonna say.”

Chloe purses her lips. “...Alright.”

Within minutes, the ingredients are mixed into and poured into the pan, which is then deposited in the oven. Chloe and Brooke retreat up to Chloe’s room, followed again by Marie, who apparently can’t get enough of her. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Brooke asks, and bites the inside of her cheek. “You seem really off.”

“Well, my fish just died, Brooke,” Chloe answers. There’s an edge to her voice that she wishes she had more control over. Actually, she wishes she had control over a lot more. 

That’s it. That’s the key. She’s losing control- first her fish dies, then what? Her mom? Her dad? Her status as the most popular and beautiful girl in school? Chloe can’t hold back a shudder, and Brooke must notice, because then there’s an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“It’s hard, I know,” she says, and sighs. “It’s never easy when a pet dies.”

If only she knew what it was really about. “Yeah,” Chloe says, and, against her better judgement, picks at the cuticle of one of her nails. She takes a deep breath in, squeezing her eyes shut, then lets it out in a slow exhale. She doesn’t even realize she’s speaking until the words are already out: “It’s just… I’m sort of afraid.” 

“...What?”

Chloe cracks open one eye and glances at Brooke, who’s staring at her, slack-jawed. “What? What’s so weird about that?” she grumbles. 

“It’s just…” Brooke pauses, no doubt to collect her words in a way that won’t have Chloe snapping at her. Again, the guilt. “I don’t know. You _ never _say you’re scared, except, I guess, at horror movies, when you want someone to hold you.”

“Oh.” Chloe blinks, thinking back through the years to when she met Brooke. It’s true: she can’t remember a single time when she admitted she was scared about something. So what’s so different about today? She makes up her mind: she’ll blame it on her hormones.

“‘Oh’ is right.” Brooke runs a hand through her long, blonde hair, and something deep in Chloe’s chest warms at the sight. “Are you _ sure _you’re okay?” 

Chloe _ hates _being vulnerable. She goes to therapy, sure, but she detests it, and isn’t a big fan of her therapist in general. Still, if it’s Brooke… it’s safe, right? Brooke wouldn’t tell anyone. Brooke is good. Brooke is… better than she deserves. “I’m… not,” she admits. “I don’t think I am. Really.”

Brooke sighs and takes Chloe’s hand in her own, smooth and soft- softer than Chloe can bear. “What’re you afraid of?” she asks, voice gentle, so _ gentle _that Chloe could just burst into tears.

She can’t remember the last time someone’s been tender with her.

The words are hard to get out, to say the least; she spits them like rotten grapes into the suddenly-stifling atmosphere of the room. “I… don’t want to lose control,” she says, and clams up again for a moment before continuing. “I did my best to be a good owner, and I still lost her.” Again, the cuticle.

“You couldn’t help it,” Brooke says. “You said it yourself- you did your best.”

“Exactly, and that’s the kicker.” Chloe chews on the inside of her lip until it starts to bleed, filling her mouth with the warm tang of iron. “I did everything I could, but she died. I thought I had it under control, and I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Brooke is silent for a while before squeezing Chloe’s hand tight. “Control isn’t everything, Chloe. Sometimes things just happen.”

“But I _ hate _it!” Chloe says through gritted teeth. “It’s just. It sucks, okay? It sucks when I flip out over the smallest shit and lose my mind when something goes the wrong way.” Softer, more subdued, she adds, “I don’t like being the way I am. I wish I was like you.”

“No, you don’t,” Brooke says, and laughs a soft laugh that holds no humor. “I don’t like being the way I am, either.”

Chloe leans her head on Brooke’s shoulder and sighs, squeezing her eyes shut again. “Guess we’re both messes, huh?”

“A little bit,” Brooke says, nothing more than a whisper. “I wish I could-” she cuts herself off, swallows whatever she was about to say. “Never mind.”

Chloe doesn’t snap at her this time- she’s too tired. Instead, she just asks, “What were you going to say?”

“I was… I wanted to say, I wish I could take your pain away,” Brooke answers. “That’s silly, though. I mean, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Chloe says. “It’s… probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She laughs softly, but, like Brooke’s, there’s no happiness in it. “...So, where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know,” Brooke admits. “But I’ll hold you until I do.”

The brownies finish cooking ten minutes later. They’re good, Chloe thinks as she bites into one (not too ravenously), but not as good as the look Brooke’s giving her from across the table.

Being known is… harder than Chloe would like to say it is. Still, opening her heart to Brooke is quite possibly the best decision she’s ever made, and the kiss that she pressed to her temple before going down to the kitchen to retrieve the brownies makes it all worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, i love you!


End file.
